


Lullaby (aka that one fic about that Dalish Inquisitor Dude)

by Hittocere (JadeHittocere)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10755498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeHittocere/pseuds/Hittocere
Summary: Cullen's Lyrium withdrawals have begun to take their toll on the once mighty Commander of the Inquisition. Inquisitor Lavellan and Dorian find themselves in the difficult situation of bringing their friend back from his fugued state. The question remains, does Cullen want to recover? Does he have the strength to keep fighting that which leashed him to the Templars? If so, what does he see is worth fighting for? Inquisitor Aryel Lavellan does not know, but he hopes that some of the answers come in the form of a dismantled sketchbook/journal found in the Commander's tower. One full of sketches of himself, and some of Dorian Pavus. Will the Commander survive? And will he face the secrets that even the Nightengale was unaware of? It remains to be seen.Angst. Fluff. Dorian/Cullen/Male Lavellan.





	Lullaby (aka that one fic about that Dalish Inquisitor Dude)

The Herald and the Seeker watched as Dorian challenged the Commander to game of chess. The Seeker is frowning and looking mildly upset, at least upset as far as the stormy faced Cassandra was concerned. She walks off, and the Dalish Herald sighs. 

“Commander, is it true?” Lavellan asks. The Commander looks ill, his cheek bones sharper, more protruding than usual. His eyes are sunken, a haunting look around him, not much to a precursor to the newest residents of the Fallow Mire. Lavellan had seen it far too many times, and so had Leilana, the Spymaster had also been concerned. 

“It’s the Lyrium with-drawls,” the Commander whispers, allowing Lavellan to take him out of the courtyard. Dorian watches with a frown upon his brow, following after them cautiously with a nod from the Inquisitor. 

“How long?” the Inquisitor questioned. The Commander followed as the Inquisitor lead him a direction he wasn’t expecting. He was leading them up towards his quarters, Dorian’s face held a soft smirk at the revelation. Cullen was not going to be allowed to slip away into nothing, neither of them would allow it. “Dorian, please ask Solas to look into this discretely. He is after all the most qualified, seeing as you and I will be far too busy looking after this thick headed dolt. Join us when you are finished, you are most welcome here.” 

“With pleasure my pointy eared friend, it’ll be two shakes,” Dorian responds turning on his heel as the Herald opens the door and sends his Commander upwards. He found it hard not to stand with a hand behind him in case he stumbled. Which was the case as they reached the second door. Cullen hesitated his hand over the knob, he turned to look at the Inquisitor before his eyes rolled back into his head.  

“Maker give me strength,” the tiny rogue grunted as the Commander started to lean backwards. Thankfully both Dorian and Solas picked that moment to reappear. “A little assistance would be most appreciated.” Dorian flicked his wrist to open the door for them, Solas used some sort of Fade learned spell to lighten the unconscious Commander into something the two of them could carry. 

“Never a dull moment around you, is there?” Solas asks, but the smile usually behind his words is forgone when he sees Cullen’s condition for himself, “this is far worse than I anticipated. He's clearly not eating enough or sleeping hardly at all… I will consult some of my friends, it may be sometime before I have anything concrete to tell you.” 

“That’s *grunt* understandable. Take Cole with you, as I suspect you intend to travel to find this information,” Lavellan requests as he and Dorian lift the ex-Templar up the stairs, “travel safely Solas.” 

“Write down as much of what’s going on as possible, Mother Giselle may be able to help with some of the symptoms,” Solas pointed out. They nodded, and Lavellan started tugging the ex-Templar towards his bed. Solas’s spell lingered as he and Dorian manhandled him over there. 

“He’s been getting steadily worse each time you and Cassandra leave, its like he actually makes the attempt when the two of you are around,” Dorian explains watching as Lavellan starts undoing Cullen’s bulky armor, “he’s more concerned about what the two of you think of him rather than his own health.” 

“That’s disconcerting, how is his mind doing though Dorian? Has it started to effect him as he feared?” Lavellan removed the chest piece of Cullen’s armor, “he’s lost quite a bit of weight, you can tell by the lack of fullness of his cheeks." 

"Muscle tone is about all he's keeping now, he'll losing any and all fat he may or may not have had," Dorian rubs his temples, "you can't leave again, not while he is in this state. I… I cannot do this alone Aryel." The mage looked worried, and the rogue could not blame him, Cullen's condition was not something that he could afford to ignore any longer. 

"I know Dorian, I don't expect you to," Aryel answers carefully, "we will do all that we can. I'll be back in a moment, I think we need a drink after hauling what's left of him up here." 

"Maker preserve me, please do you lovely man. I need it after all of this," Dorian words taper down to a whisper, he's completely torn up over the whole thing. Aryel frowned, someday he would speak to the mage about his constant need to be drinking. Not today though, he needed a drink just as bad as his favorite flirty mage. 

He descended the stairs, Leliana was waiting for him, she had three bottles with her. Aryel nodded following his Spymaster, she set the bottles inside the Ambassador's office for safekeeping. Aryel followed her to Cullen's office, she made a motion that was most likely for her spies. She locked the door behind them, Cassandra was nowhere to be seen. 

"What's your plan?" she asks perching on Cullen's desk. It was strangely cleared, "He's been ill enough for the last week that he asked Cassandra to step in, at the very least temporarily while he attempts to recover from what's plaguing him." Her explanation certainly made sense, and was heartwarming, Cullen had at least noticed something was wrong with himself. That would make Dorian and his own work so much easier since Cullen **wanted** to get better. 

"I do not yet know. I need the rest of our circle to handle the Inquisition while Dorian and I attempt to help Cullen recover, Solas is on an assignment to see if he can find anything and I sent Cole with him," he explains running his fingers through his almost phantom blond strands, "we'll start with the basics and move from there. I will not fail our Commander, he's come too far to lose everything now." 

"He's been unable to sleep soundly for the past several months, my agents also report that he has not been taking his daily meals as frequently since Haven. I will have every piece of this puzzle brought to you as I discover it Inquisitor," Leliana jumps off the desk. Its strange to watch her climb the ladder to where Cullen's bed is, Aryel has been up there once before. He was looking for the 48 missing copies of Varric's books at the time, the librarian had personally asked him to look for them. Aryel had searched every nook of the castle, the only place he hadn't seen any were in Varric's own possession. He had found 46 of them thus far, he suspected Cole or Sera had the other two, but it was an interesting experience. 

Cullen had been in his office at the time, and Aryel had started peeking around everywhere. The Commander had merely raised an eyebrow when he started climbing the ladder to the upper tower level. He had honestly expected there to be a cot at the top when he arrived, not the neatly made bed with a single pillow perfectly centered. Two of the books he was looking for were sitting on the nightstand, there was a sheet next to them with a list of names and Aryel had to laugh when he realized what it was. The Commander was indentifying each of the characters with a real life person that Varric had met. He chuckled and placed the paper in the drawer for safe keeping while he placed the books in the messenger bag he had for his mission. 

The Commander didn't ask what he was doing, but Aryel showed him the two books with a smile. Cullen had looked adorably confused and didn't ask what it was about for about two weeks. He looked extremely relieved to hear that he wasn't the only guilty party of checking out Varric's books. 

"It's not as clean as he usually keeps it. You should have a look Inquisitor," Leliana's voice seems rather surprised. Aryel swallows thickly and follows after his Spymaster, when he reaches the top he sees exactly what she's talking about. The bed is completely unmade for one, there are papers bursting from the nightstand drawers, and candles melted down to the base everywhere. If not for the numerous amounts of paper he might have thought it was a summoning circle, the thing is the papers are covered with sketches. They are of him, and sometimes Dorian. 

Cullen's hand writing is everywhere, on the pages that is. Leliana gathers up the papers and glances over them, she's smiling softly as she does. Aryel doesn't move, he notices that most of these are torn from the pages of a sketch book. He never knew that the Commander had such a… a passion he would say, for drawing of all things. Some of the sketches are far more flattering than Aryel would have thought, and there is one that shows tears upon it. The beginnings of a sketch of what looks like two men, and Aryel cannot begin to understand why that would be upsetting. 

"It seems our Commander is quite taken with you Inquisitor," the Spymaster hands him a page that has a sketch of him lounging torso bare next to almost a page of carefully written text. It's painfully clear what the book used to be once he starts reading the words. 

 _I should have said something, anything. Lord Aryel is not what I expected, how could he be? It's all Cassandra's fault, she told me to read those blasted serials of Varric's. I hope Lord Aryel only found those when he was searching earlier, Maker preserve me if he knew. I can't tell him… I already said I… Blast and Damnation, I was a fool._  

 _Lord Aryel's heart is too kind, it will get him killed. I haven't been able to forget, that moment in Haven when he asked if I was involved with anyone… Curse the Maker (I'm sorry Maker, really I am, but I'm so tired I can think of no better phrasing at present. I'm not so lost as to not know it is your hand that guides us always. Where was I?) why couldn't I have just stuttered incoherently instead of brushing him aside? Why couldn't I have said anything other than what I did? The very next scene every night in my nightmares is Lord Aryel, our dear Herald of Andraste, standing toe to toe with a blighted old god and a darkspawn that would send most men to their mothers messing themselves._  

 _Not our Herald, not Aryel. He stood tall, between us and that demon horror, he bought us the time we needed to escape and save so many of  the people of Haven. He didn't think he was going to survive it either, you could see the fire in his eyes, the determination to save as many of us as he could before that blighted bastard Corphyous took him down. I wanted to stop him, I tried in fact, but Aryel just told me to take the people of Haven and run. That first wave wasn't so bad, he had the Iron Bull, that kid Cole, and Vivinne the ice bitch. Even after she volunteered to assist the Herald against the rogue mages, she strikes me as cold hearted and cruel. The complete opposite of Aryel. He sent them with us once the trebuche was ready, Bull looked disappointed but when he saw his men he understood._  

 _Aryel couldn't afford to lose any of us._  

 _Does Aryel realize however that we can't afford to lose him?_  

 _I still see it when I close my eyes, Aryel falling to that bastard, his blood spilling across the ground, the blighted old god deciding to use him as toothpick. It was never a good dream… Why can't it be the moment he stumbled back to us in the snow half frozen but alive none the less? Why can't it be the smile on his face as we see Skyhold for the first time? It always has to be some pit spawned blighted nightmare where he dies._  

 _It always has to be the death of those I care about. It always leads back to those days of Lake Calenhad. The days I spent trying to put the pieces back together after they slaughtered my friends and… I can't bear to think of it anymore._  

 _Lord Aryel has told me that he believes in what I am doing now, that he believes in me. I wish I could hold myself in the same high regard that he holds me. I'm too broken now, but he doesn't think so. Cassandra, that blasted blighted Seeker… she refuses to replace me with a more qualified Commander for the Inquisition. Even after I told her I could no longer do my job. She has the gall to hold the barest hint of a smile at me and shake her head. ' **He** would never forgive me if I did Commander.' It takes me several minutes to realize what she means. _  

 _Lord Aryel knows just how hard this is on me now, and it takes longer than I want to admit to realize that Aryel himself is sitting shadowed in the corner now. Not only that Aryel still wants me as his Commander, but that is even despite knowing that I might not still have the qualifications to be his Commander. Why?_  

 _It is only later I realize that one of Leliana's people arranged for the… no, Aryel to be there at that moment. She wanted him to know, but why? What does the Spymaster have to gain from leaving me so exposed in front of Aryel? I make it a point of cornering the Spymaster, she of course tells me nothing, but from the look on her face she doesn't know what I'm talking about for once. I ask her to look into the matter discretely, she promises me that she will find some sort of answer. Two days later a note is found on my desk, it read as follows:_  

 _**It was not our place to interfere, for that we apologize, but we see so much. We wanted to help, the Spirit… he helps people, so why can't we? The Inquisitor, he stops by every afternoon like clockwork, makes excuses to get there at precisely the same time each afternoon. Even the days that he comes back injured so bad he shouldn't be able to stand. He comes to check on the Commander. Do they not see it? Do they not see how much the other cares?**_  

 ** _The Commander bends his schedule to always be there when the Inquisitor stops by. He always makes sure that he's not so far behind that when the Inquisitor stops in he can't speak freely, but he never says what he means to say! We see the Commander's concern when word comes in that the Herald of Andraste is injured in battle, we see how quickly he removes himself from his tower to get a more recent report. Why can the Commander not simply ask the Herald, our Inquisitor to stop in just to chat?_**  

 ** _We apologize, it was not our place. We just wanted to make a difference._**  

 _I… sweet Andraste, it appeared that even Leliana's agents were more grown up than I was about what I've been feeling. Maker I'm such a fool. Yet the Inquisitor, no, Aryel still stops by, now I see the sweat on his brow when he's injured. I see the bandages carefully covered by his tunic… Maker preserve me, I don't think I can take it much longer._  

 _Aryel is no longer the only one that stops in to see me like clockwork. Altus Pavus, for the Tevinter is very offended at being called a magister, Maker knows I haven't a clue what the blighted difference is, has told me this several times, but I digress. He stops by on the days that Aryel can't, he also stops by in the evenings, asks if I've eaten dinner yet. More often than not my stomach growls giving away that not only have I not eaten dinner, but that  I also skipped lunch. He smiles and disappears long enough to fetch the both of us supper. If I didn't know any better I'd say Josephine has put him up to it._  

Aryel can't find the next page, Leliana supplies him with another one, it appears to be the next in the series, or close enough that it doesn't matter. It almost feels wrong reading the Commander's inner most thoughts, but Aryel can't help it. He needs to know if there's anything left of the man he met in Haven left to save. 

 _It's been a few weeks since Dorian joined us, I've been sketching instead of writing. Aryel's been in most of them, he's been busy again. Coryphius hasn't really shown his face since Haven, it's been slow going tracking down leads on that bastard. That's not something I really want to write about though, I write about that and read about it all blighted day, I am not about to waste another drop in this… book… yes book, about that blighted creature._  

 _Anyways, Dorian and Aryel have been going on missions together frequently now. Dorian always fills me in on what I'm missing while Aryel is in the field, the laughter never quite reaches his eyes, but the stories! I'm sure Varric's missing out when he's stuck balancing his numbers here in Skyhold, otherwise there would be a new novel series about poor Aryel and his misadventures._  

 _I've finally heard the real story about how Sera joined the Inquisition, I personally find it hysterical that she only stole that garrison's breeches. As illogical as the move is, it's an effective demoralizer, and for that she gets credit from me. Not that I would ever say a word about it to her. Aryel was too busy laughing through the recanting to add too much detail, but his face is so handsome as he does. The light dusting across those cheeks, Maker preserve me… the only reason I didn't mess myself from laughter was because of… nevermind._  

 _Dorian and Aryel both invite me to chess now, Dorian's a more interesting opponent truth be told. His mouth (and that adorably out of place on anyone else moustache) never stops moving, a constant outpouring of humorous nonsense. I've never laughed so hard as the first time I bested Dorian at chess in front of Aryel, the shocked and mock horror expression was too much for me. Aryel found the spectacle amusing at least, judging by the gentle upturn of his lips at my teasing. Dorian excused himself, and I found myself playing the next round against Aryel._  

 _While I may be the Commander of his army there seems to be good reason why Aryel is the Lord Inquisitor, he bested me easily, even if it did take several hours. I lost so many pieces to his cunning moves, I was too busy trying to impress him I suspect. He drew out the game longer than necessary now that I look back on it, but still… It was nice to just sit and talk to Aryel._  

 _His mind is always working, always trying to find a better way to help the people of Thedas, all of Thedas not just the Dalish or the Nobility as some might suspect. His efforts are so earnest, it explains some of the more odd reports of his missions that cross my desk. Dare I even recount the tale of Lord Woolsly? Or perhaps the tales of his adventures in the Fallow Mire on the way to rescue my soldiers? Even Varric believes in him, and that's no small feat. Maker what have I fallen into now that I hadn't seen back then?_  

 _Maker bless that oversized heart of his, he's the last of his clan now, Josephine looked positively miserable to deliver that piece of news. The Inquisitor vanished for several days, Dorian had followed him out of concern with Cole and Sera. Leliana informed me that only darkspawn were dispatched, and that the other three never even saw them until they were long dead. I didn't know Aryel was that dangerous, I should have suspected… Sera was sheet white when I asked, and Cole said the Inquisitor was on the road to recovery. Dorian refused to speak of the trip, but he didn't leave my office for several days and always had something strong enough to put hair on a woman's chest in his hand. He never took a sip, he just stared at it, I've never seen the mage look so… terrified._  

 _Aryel stopped in a few days later, he looked normal as can be and whispered something to the mage. The Altus shot up with a smirk, and I get the idea that they were about to make trouble for someone. Two days later Sera walks past me whistling with a new Dalish bow, and Dorian is sparing against Aryel in the courtyard. Its truly a sight to behold, and our troops have gathered to watch it as well. Aryel has allowed the use of limited magic, and Dorian is trying his damndest to hit him._  

 _Our Inquisitor however is far more dangerous than I first gave him credit for. His bow remains on his back untouched, and even though he is only dodging everyone around gets the sense that he is the one with the upper hand. Dorian stops throwing his mini fireballs and makes the mistake of taunting Aryel, that's the moment Aryel is down off where he's perched and has the mage in headlock. Time magic or no, Dorian is no match for our Inquisitor. I suspect even I would find myself lacking against such a quick opponent._  

 _The week passes slowly, since Dorian's match others have requested to test their mettle against Aryel. He accepts them when he has the time, which seems to be often, he's waiting on news from me about Corphyous's whereabouts. Sera convinces Cole to help her take on the Inquisitor, even two on one Aryel triumphs easily. It comes as no surprise after all the missions that he goes on to assist the people of Thedas. From there on waves challenge Aryel, even Chevaliers team up to take him on. Aryel smiles, he seems to enjoy the challenge._  

 _One day Bull's Chargers inquire if they may face him, his smile falters, he seems unsure. I happened to be nearby and offered to be on his side during the match, and Dorian offers his help as well. Aryel seems pleased by the idea and the match is scheduled for the following day so that Bull can sleep off his hangover. It was one of the most exciting matches I've ever had. Leliana is the judge of our match, with Mother Giselle standing off to the side just in case, when the match begins Dorian threw a barrier spell over the three of us._  

 _Aryel ducks out of sight, but his presence is felt. This unnerves several of the Chargers, Bull however is unaffected and charged straight for me. My Templar training was the only thing that possibly prepared me for the massive hit I took from Bull's axe. Krem is coming up behind him to strike me again when I see him drop to the ground from seemingly nothing, Aryel's work I presumed._  

 _Dorian is playing an interesting game of cat and mouse across the field with two other mages and one of Bull's rogues. Aryel shows up balancing precariously on Bull's horns with his bow drawn, it’s the first match I've seen him draw his bow in, which denotes the amount of challenge he finds the match. He fires a total of seven arrows before Bull can shake him off, Aryel back flips to my side and draws a set of twin blades we didn't know he carried up until he started these matches._  

 _One is a sickening shade of green that matches the Anchor in his hands, the other is shade matched only by the blood it has probably drawn from its victims over the years. The green one glimmers like a deadly emerald, and is curved in such a way that suggests it’s a throat cutter’s blade. The red one is twisted and curved, giving me the idea that its for inflicting wounds that cannot simply be stitched up. Aryel’s eyes are narrowed, he is completely focused on that battle, the subtle blue of his eyes is lost in the shadowy mask he keeps over his emotions. He holds them hilts forward, he is ready to charge, I nod my head and it begins anew._  

 _He charges beside me, leaving the Iron Bull to me and taking on Krem himself. He dodges the blade by back flipping gracefully over Krem, its barely a second later when he launches himself feet first at the Tevinter. Both feet firmly meet the Vint's back and send him flying into a hastily erected barrier by Solas. I used my shield to slide Bull's axe aside and crash the hilt into his shoulder as hard as my arm allows, he staggers backwards, more in surprise than anything else._  

 _Aryel nocks several arrows and hits the spot I hit and several other targets. Bull's eyes widen, apparently that stung. Aryel leaps up onto the top of the Andrastian statues he had placed in the courtyard. I see Dorian has managed to best the mages and is working on the rogue, unlike when he fought Aryel he seems to have the upper hand. I found myself knocked sideways a moment later as I failed to keep an eye on Krem. No wonder Aryel was surveying the group from up high._  

 _Aryel lets out a scoff and slides gracefully down the statue, I watch Krem fly towards him. Aryel dodges the spell one of the Charger mages sends his way before Dorian swats them down like a fly, he replaces his bow across his back and redraws the twin blades. It's down to Krem and Aryel, Dorian has managed to knock out the rogue and is now watching as those two circle. Bull himself is awake, but doesn't appear to want to interfere. As Krem makes the smallest movement and I watch as Aryel simply changes stances as if he were dancing._  

 _Its over before it can really begin, Krem loses patience waiting for Aryel to make the first move. It's all the opportunity that Aryel needs, Krem's attack is furious, full of strikes that would probably fell anything less of a man. I find myself fortunate that Aryel chose him rather than Bull looking back on it, Aryel parries and dances his way what looks to be effortlessly from harm. He waits for an opportunity he knows is there, the battle changes drastically in an instant._  

 _Krem is thrown on the defensive as Aryel's counters turn into attacks of his own, Krem realizes too late that he's lost the advantage. Aryel's blades catch his sword and fling it aside in a passing movement and the next he's got one of those deadly blades pulled up under Krem's chin ready to finish it. He's not even out of breath, and that thought terrifies me more than anything else._  

 _The Spymaster calls the match, and Aryel releases Krem offering him a soft smile. The Tevinter looks disappointed at the outcome, but concedes it was one of the best matches he's had in ages. Aryel nods his head in silent agreement, and the Chargers each congratulate him for the victory. A few even make their way to me and Dorian with gigantic smiles, inviting us for drinks later. I politely declined, I know that is a match I can never win against them and say as much. The mirth filled laugh that escapes us and the crowd lessens the tension. No one is seriously hurt, and Bull himself shakes my hand saying he enjoyed the match._  

 _Aryel joins us for dinner in my tower later, he thanks us for our assistance and comments lightly on some improvements we could make. Adjustments to our stances, a hint more caution when surveying the field, a dash more bold when facing such towering opponents. It then occurs to me that Aryel himself is more qualified for my position than I am, just what was his role in his clan? I suddenly felt in that moment that the room was too small, and that it was far too warm for my liking. Praise the Maker for my Templar armor, for it spared me from a conversation with these two men that I both admire and care deeply for. Aryel smiles as he notices my baffled expression, he offers to tell me the tale at a later date. I must confess I am fascinated by the idea and can't wait._  

 _In between Aryel’s now famous sparing matches the courtyard finds itself wrapped up in an entirely different pastime. Mainly Dorian's chess matches with me, which have become something of a spectacle, at least since Aryel turned our courtyard into a Chantry garden. It surprises me to learn of how many of them are talented players, quietly they observe our games. At times I have seen more than one cleric openly standing nearby watching our games, but of course Dorian would turn even that into a game. They become ever so much more… chaotic, our games that is. Aryel actually had to speak with the two of us about it one afternoon, saying that chess matches were threatening to overwhelm the courtyard because of our now famous games had encouraged the clerics to start their own matches each day. He looked pleased, glad to be spreading something other than blood and bad news around the castle._  

 _Varric presented Cassandra with the next chapter of Swords and Shields today. She hasn't stopped reading it, Dorian asked if she'd talked me into reading the series yet. She hadn't needed to, (not that I would admit that aloud) but a copy did mysteriously appear on my desk that morning. Aryel's doing I suspect, seeing as he must have noticed exactly which of Varric's novels were on my nightstand months ago. I promptly turned red at the comment, there was no need to answer._  

 _Varric's newest chapter is actually worst than the last one. What on earth did he expect the knight-commander to do in such a situation? Maker's arse I sound like Cassandra, how did she corrupt me so? Aryel has been gone again, Dorian's been meeting with me in his stead, its odd how they seem to do that. He's out clearing out the Emerald Graves, at a man named 'Fairbanks' request no less. Reports indicate that there's a blight spawned group of red Templars hiding out there. Harding sends word that Aryel is cleaning house, its like the world expects him to be their trashman._  

 _'Oh there's a mess in the Graves? Call the Inquisitor. The Venatori are doing something in Oasis? Call the Inquisitor. Someone's kidnapping innocents from Emprise Du Lion? Send the Inquisitor.' Poor Aryel, it never… never ends. He looks like he's been run absolutely ragged by the time he gets back to Skyhold, the lines around his eyes showing just how much it's aging him. Someday I'll put my work aside long enough to have a drink with him. Hopefully I won't blurt some nonsensical thing like the character's in Varric's books while I have his ear._  

 _Blessed be the Maker, we finally have a chance to go somewhere together. Ok, maybe not blessed… It's fucking Halamshalral, and that whole blighted affair of 'we can't let them assassinate the Empress.' That, dear Maker, means that I am stuck attending a blighted ball. An Orlesian ball full of nobility that I can't threaten, admirers that I can't escape, and Aryel in a tight uniform. Maker preserve me, I don't even have the luxury of wearing my Templar armor to protect my backside. Maker guide me, it will be one of the longest nights in my career as the Commander of the Inquisition. Dorian seems amused, Aryel is taking three of the Inner Circle with to assist while the Nightingale, Ambassador, and myself are tied up with the rest of the Nobility._  

 _In the end Dorian didn't even stumble despite drinking about three punch bowls worth of wine, Varric was mostly nowhere to be seen, and Cassandra was mostly storming over by the entranceway. Aryel had a broken arm for his troubles that the healers were able to set, and Celene lived to party another day. I hate nobles._  

 _I should mention that Dorian asked me to dance that evening, I politely declined and he shrugged his shoulders. Not a moment later did I see Aryel, broken arm and all, dancing across the dance floor with him. They were discussing something, judging by the way Dorian's mouth never stopped moving, Aryel was red faced, the embarrassed shade I believe. The Empress herself appalled the end of their dance, it was rather… erotic. Aryel excused himself carefully, and ghosted past to the balcony to sit in the cool night air._  

 _I will try to write his words, because for Andraste's sake they are worth saving. At least they were to me anyways…_  

 _"Dorian said that you wouldn't dance with him," he starts drawing my attention, "would the answer have been different if someone else had asked you I wonder… You'll excuse my lack of tact Commander, it’s whatever this pain poluce is they have me on."_  

 _"It is of no trouble at all Inquisitor," I respond carefully. Truth be told, I still can't dance, but if Aryel had asked it of me… I would not have been unable to say no._  

 _"Come now Commander, you may call me Aryel, or at least Lavellan. We are friends, there is no one around to overhear and criticize you," he looks over at the doorway. The Nightingale stands between the doors leading outside, the Ambassador at her side blocking any would be interrupters. No one of course is foolish enough to cross the path of our Spymaster._  

 _"Lord Aryel, are you drunk?" I ask hoping to steer the conversation into more comfortable territory._  

 _"Certainly not," he snorts with an amused face, "I swear drunk I'm not the Maker… Wait…" I cannot help laughing at the slip up, or what I thought was a slip up at the time. Aryel's cheeks are flush with color as he embraces me earlier. I almost died, half of Orilas is looking on and Aryel is holding me as tight as he can against him with his good arm._  

 _"Lord Aryel?" I whispered, I can just make out the sounds of soft crying._  

 _"Its been a long night Cullen, I am so tired of the Game. I'm tired of watching people who care about each other lie, cheat, and murder each other in the name of it. I only wish I could have helped Celene and Briala see the error of their ways," Aryel whispers back. Maker was I confused by his words, Leliana had not yet briefed me on what in Andraste's good name was going on._  

 _"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about Lord Aryel," I answer. Aryel's face scrunches up at the word Lord, but he knows I cannot drop it here._  

 _"Celene and Briala used to be lovers Cullen," he explains to me, "they had a falling out, a spectacularly quiet one, but now she's having Briala exiled for it. Who's to say I won't accidently make a stupid choice like that? Push away the people I care about, and use my authority to keep them away… It seems to me a choice like that only makes the heart ache more."  I'm not sure if he's referring to them or the way I brushed him aside in Haven at that point. Seeing as I am here now, and the evidence that I do in fact give a damn is right here in front of him… I have no idea._ The page ends and Aryel is more than relieved that it stops there. 

"Have these collected and put into a private place that only you can find them Leliana," Aryel orders, his throat is a little dry after reading the Commander's words. "I expect you not to read them all, he does deserve some privacy." 

"You have my word Inquisitor, they will not be read by anyone else. I believe your quarters will be safest once I finish gathering these up," the Spymaster asks looking at him curiously, "what will you do?" Aryel slides down the ladder carefully, he's still thinking about all the things Cullen dared only to write about. 

"I do not yet know," he answers, "do you think I should tell him I read those?" 

"Normally I would advise against it, but in this case I would suggest you do. It seems you have a lot to discuss," Leliana advises. 

"Don't I know it…" Aryel whispers as he makes his way back towards his own quarters. He misses the smile gracing the lips of Spymaster, a warm one that would have said 'everything is going to be alright.' 

  

DORIAN 

Dorian tried to fight off the smile as the door shut and he spotted the three bottles of something rather pleasant. He had been gone longer than he expected, and given the vintages of those bottles it must have been the Spymaster who caught up with him. Aryel had dropped the mask he normally wore once he was in the shelter of his own quarters, he handed one of the bottles to Dorian. He carefully set the other two in his closet for safekeeping. 

"Leliana found something in Cullen's quarters," Aryel announces, but he's not looking at Dorian. It's hard to get a read on just what time of something they found in the dear Commander's quarters, it was clearly something unexpected judging by the Inquisitor.  

"Oh? Do tell," he asks examining, "and where did our lovely Nightingale drag this out of?" 

"I don't really know, but her agents are keeping watch over Cullen's office," Aryel is leaning against the frame looking at the Commander as if trying to figure out just what they are going to do with him, "we found his journal torn apart around the loft. Pages of sketches, countless pages full of writing, and none of it about work for the most part." 

"Oh really," Dorian found himself curious, "anything interesting?" 

"It's not something I should have read," Aryel lets out a breath that sends a shiver down Dorian's spine, "the sketches were of us, and when I say us I mean you and I. He's quite the artist, when he's not complaining about people sending me every which direction." 

"He complains for you, how sweet. What else are you not supposed to know?" Dorian asked, "what types of sketches?" He watched the reactions of the Inquisitor carefully, he was clearly embarrassed. 

"Dorian… he's still in there, that brilliant man I met when I stumbled out of the Fade. The man that the men would follow to ends of the earth," Aryel explains, "he also somehow thought I would make a good Commander. I tremble at the thought." Dorian gestures for Aryel to join him on the lounge, the Inquisitor moves there hesitantly, there's a slight tremor to his movements. 

"We knew that already, but you found something else there didn't you?" Dorian whispers, "whatever it is you can tell me… Amatus." 

"He cares deeply for both of us, I'm not entirely sure just how deep it goes," Aryel leans against him, he's not sobbing, "he was sketching the both of us Dorian. They were heartbreakingly beautiful, I'm not sure what to do now. I used to think it was just a misplaced feeling, but now…" 

"I think the phrase you're looking for is Fastna Vaas, at least in Tevinter that's the phrase we'd use," Dorian supplies, "I know what you mean though. Maker curse the day someone makes me choose between the two of you." Aryel smiles softly, understanding exactly what he meant. 

"We should get some rest tonight, Leliana has arranged for some time off for me," Aryel whispers, "let us see if we can't take care of those nightmares." 

  

COMMANDER CULLEN 

Cullen had only been up to the Inquisitor's room once, maybe twice. Those trips had been in order to supervise the repairs on it while Aryel was on an operation. It was now furnished, and Cullen found himself in awe, he knew how much most of the items cost. Still that didn't explain why he was still only wearing his tunic, warmth radiating around him gently. It was first time that he had slept soundly in weeks, months even. Looking to either side of him and it wasn't hard to tell why. Dorian was curled up with his back to him on one side, and blessed Andraste… the Inquisitor's head was on his chest. He thought… but why else would he be here?  

He was lying in the Inquisitor's quarters, in his bed, with him and Dorian on either side. He was warm, comfortable, secure, and above all he had actually gotten some sleep. The Inquisitor's soft breath was ghosting across his hand, and his eyelashes resting softly against bare cheeks. He heard the door and looked over to see Leliana holding a box, the Spymaster raised an eyebrow at him. She placed the box on the Inquisitor's desk gingerly before taking a seat there. 

"I'm sure you have questions," her voice is quiet, the Inquisitor pulls one of the blankets over his head. Dorian doesn't budge, "they went to sleep only a few hours ago, too concerned over a certain ex-Templar to do much else." 

"What is going on?" he asks as loud as he dares, Aryel is buried on his chest, the rumbling must disturb him slightly. 

"You collapsed as he and Dorian were bringing you up here yesterday. You've slept for an entire day and a half," she explains, "the box is yours. Your journal if what I read was any indication?" Cullen felt his face flush to the tips of his ears. 

"You read it?" he whispers. 

"The Inquisitor asked that I not read all of it, so only a few pages. You thought Aryel would make a better Commander than you?" she asked tilting her head, "he trained the new hunters for the clan Levallen, he lacks the confidence to ask the things that you do. Why do you think he takes on all those ridiculous missions? He wants to earn his place, he doesn't believe that standing at Haven earned him this right or this room." Cullen could understand that, it certainly explained what was up with the sparring that started popping up all around Skyhold. 

"Did he read any of it?" Cullen can't be sure, he doesn't know why he is surrounded here yet. 

"Yes. He seemed amused by your account on the Chargers match, he thought you had been taking lessons from Varric," she giggled, "Varric asked me why he would think such a thing, I declined to comment. He read about five pages, nothing too embarrassing, I read them first." 

"Lovely, why am I here?" Cullen asks rolling his eyes. 

"The Inquisitor has stolen you, we are all concerned Commander. Your health has started to suffer, Dorian made the suggestion to Lord Aryel and this appears to be the solution they've come up with," Leliana explains, "none of us want to lose you Cullen. Especially not those two, your journal suggests you are not as oblivious as you claim to be." 

"Then he knows of my affections for him? How can he simply--" Cullen's voice started to raise and he was subsequently hit with a pillow. Not by Aryel, but by Dorian. 

"Would you kindly shut up and go back to sleep already Amatus," Dorian's voice is about a pitch and a half deeper than normal, it must be from sleeping, "Leliana if you could get the curtains? I'm afraid I might set them on fire if I attempt to do it from here." The Spymaster giggles and starts closing the drapery around the room. 

"You are cared for deeply here Cullen, and lunch will be up in a few hours. I don't expect they'll let you sleep through it this time," Leliana whispers, "sleep well sparkler." Dorian grumbles at the nickname as she descends the stairs. As the fire attempts to die Cullen chuckles as Dorian throws a fireball into the waning fireplace. The room is a pleasant warm within moments. He supposes things could be worse. 

  

ARYEL 

He woke up briefly at Leliana's intrusion, the blanket was more to stifle the fact he was listening intently. Dorian however was still asleep, it was considerate of Cullen to at least try to keep his voice down. Leliana's conversation went over well, he could tell, good thing that Cullen didn't know exactly what 'Amatus' means yet… 

He awoke later when Dorian finally dragged himself out of bed, Cullen was blissfully out still. He reconfigured so that he was leaning against Cullen's chest again, Dorian looked at him hungrily in the light of the fire. 

"The bags under his eyes have faded, do you think he's actually slept soundly?" Aryel asks quietly. 

"Amatus, I have checked with the spirits in the fade nearest us. Part of Cullen's issue seems to be that he was being poisoned," Dorian responds with a frown, "someone has been intentionally doing this to him right under my nose." 

"How is that possible?" Aryel hisses, "this is my castle, how dare they poison **my** Commander." He's never felt so angry, even the day he discovered that his clan had been lying to him about shems wasn't so bad. Dorian is at his side in an instant, kissing his forehead gently. 

"I don't know, but I intend to find out. Then I intend to hand them over to you Amatus," Dorian fixed his hair and was gone in a flash. Aryel frowned, he wasn't sure they would suffer long enough if Dorian gave them to him. He sat there for no small amount of time just watching the rise and fall of the ex-Templar's chest. 

"Inquisitor?" Cullen's voice was filled with sleep, "I… I must apologize." Aryel put a finger to his lips, his thumb lightly tracing over the scar there. 

"You have nothing to apologize for, for you did nothing wrong Cullen. Well, save for callinhg me Inquisitor while I am using your chest as a pillow in my quarters. I'm pretty sure I can look past that however," Aryel interrupts, "someone has been poisoning you, and I will allow it no longer. You will not die under my roof, I **will not** allow it, am I clear my dear Commander?" Cullen's eyes widened, though Aryel could not think of why. He removes his hand and sits up leaning against the elegant headboard of the Orlesian styled bed. 

"I thought you and Dorian were… well I didn't want to get in the way Inqu- Aryel. Where did he go?" Cullen asked sitting up now that Aryel had removed his head from his chest.  

"Dorian is looking into it for me, anyone who wants to kill you is going to have to go through me. I believe you've a firsthand idea just how difficult that is?" Aryel laughs with a smirk, "though I do disagree with one part of Dorian's plan, he probably shouldn't hand them over to me. I might do something I'll regret if he does…" It's adorable the way Cullen hesitates before answering, more so when he's attempting to use his name. 

"I've never known you to regret anything… Aryel," Cullen remarks looking away as he whispers the name. Aryel finds it adorable beyond reason. 

"Think to this, if I scared Sera that bad when I was hunting Darkspawn… what do you think I will do someone who threatens someone that holds my heart?" Aryel makes a silent promise that he will turn the man over to Leliana, whomever it was will pay dearly. As will whomever put them up to it, they will have no mercy from him. 

"That is a good point, even Dorian looked afraid," Cullen comments through the blush working its way to his ears, "but I don't want to get between the two of you." Aryel sighs and places a hand on Cullen's cheek delicately. 

"You have never been in the way of us Cullen, you are the reason we are together," Aryel explains brushing his thumb against the stubble there, "our mutual concern for you… Its difficult to explain, but we wouldn't want this thing between us if were to hurt you. We have unanimously decided that you are part of it, that is unless you'd rather not be ravished by a charming Altus and his equally brilliant Inquisitor. We have talked it over, the decision took about the grand total of five seconds." 

"Aryel… are you sure? I'm mean I'm just a broken washed up ex-Templar," Cullen's eyes turned away from him, "and you… You're the Inquisitor, the heart of all of this. Not to mention that Dorian's a pampered mage prince or some such thing from another country." 

"I asked you at Haven, before I was anyone special, before I was truly famous Cullen.  I’ve traveled across most of this country and the one full of nobles next door, I am now probably almost as well known as Andraste herself, yet nothing has changed. My heart still stands by its initial choice, Dorian has somehow wormed his way in there with you," Aryel presses his forehead against Cullen's, "I want the two of you, if I have to give all of this up to have you both? I will, in a heartbeat. No second guesses needed, you are both too important for that. You hold my heart in your hands, and I will do whatever is necessary to protect the both of you." 

"What he said Amatus," Dorian adds sitting down on the other side of him, "we can't do this without you. It would break our hearts to even try, because together we can do anything. Even take down Bull's  famous Chargers, and that Amatus takes more than guts or glory. It takes an intimate understanding of your partners, something they have perfected over years. We did it after a few weeks, yes it might have taken longer to defeat them, but we did it instinctually without so much as one practice on the field together!" Aryel pulls his head back and sees Cullen losing himself in his eyes. 

"None of this would be possible without you and your fearlessly compassionate heart. You don't need Lyrium, you just need to believe in yourself, in us," Aryel explains squeezing his hand as Dorian wiggles and arm behind him. They saw the flinch at the word Lyrium, but it was expected, it has caused him so much pain. 

"This could ruin the Inquisition," Cullen mutters quietly. 

"Let it, all that matters is that we save the world anyways," Dorian chuckles, "Aryel doesn't need that much power anyways, do you?" 

"Certainly not, and why would it ruin us? We were started by a bunch of Orelsains," Aryel points out, "if we aren't hiding it how can it be used against us? If they try to kidnap me I'll throw them into a rift, if they get Dorian he'll set everything ablaze so the Inquisition army knows where to look, and if they get you…" Aryel darkened his expression. 

"Fastna Vaas… they'll be wishing it was a blight instead Amatus," Dorian shivers, "you don't want to know. Can you imagine Aryel, if they lived past Leliana what would happen when you finally got ahold of them?" 

"What makes you think she wouldn't let me have them first?" Aryel raises a brow, "my clan is gone, all I have left is you two. The Inquisition is my family, I am no Keeper, but I am a hunter. And anyone who would seek to harm my family is my prey. I will not fail you all." Dorian ruffles Aryel's hair before turning to Cullen who's expression seems exasperated. 

"Maker preserve my broken soul, you two are worse than my sister," Cullen whispers, "if you both want me so badly… I guess I am yours." 

"There are worse people to come home to Amatus," Dorian rests his cheek against Cullen's softly, "right now however we are late. Leliana herself is making us lunch, a treat I promised we would not be late for." 

"Well then, shall we go?" Aryel plants a kiss on the crown of Cullen's head. He and Dorian each grab one of the Commander's hands and pull him towards the stairs. 

**Author's Note:**

> For the record Cullen is my original favorite, then came Dorian like a tidal wave. My favorite thing to write in this was Cullen's journal. I hope to continue this at some point.


End file.
